Turning Back From The Abyss
Watch the contents of the bottle go down the sink.
Oh, how I want a drink.
I must resist, I must resist.
The smell of alcohol in the air.
I can almost taste it there.
Temptation is rife.
I must resist the urge, I must resist.
I open the window,
breath deeply in air
This is the first hour,
of the first day.
Time is my enemy
I have to ignore.
If I watch it go slowly,
I’ll only want a drink more.
Must go for a walk,
so its outs of sight
Oh, day turn to night,
night turn to day.
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poem by David Harris
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Eyes Of Mr D (Part 3)
(The author recommends that you read Parts One and Two before reading this.)
For a week, he frantically looked
for her at the bus stop
and the surrounding area.
Unfortunately, he could not see her anywhere.
It was as if she had vanished into thin air.
He bought most every paper,
looking for her picture there somewhere,
but it never appeared.
At his ground floor flat, he paced about.
She was on his mind constantly.
He need to find her,
but was lost on what to do.
He could not go to the police;
they would take him as a crank,
or worst still,
accuse him of being a murderer.
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poem by David Harris
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It's Christmas Day! All's Secure
Note: I don’t often put poems up that are not my own. But at the end this poem came with a request from the unknown author who wanted lots of people to read it by passing it on. As I read the poem I understood why and decide if I post it as the readership would end up worldwide. I removed the mark counter as it is not needed for this, but if want to pass this poem along please be my guest.
T'WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE,
IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.
I'D COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,
AND TO SEE, JUST WHO, IN THIS HOME HERE DID LIVE.
I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,
NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE.
NO STOCKING BY THE MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND.
ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES OF FAR DISTANT LANDS,
WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS.
A SOBERING THOUGHT CAME TO MY MIND.
FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT, IT WAS DARK AND DREARY.
I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY
THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE
CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.
THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN DISORDER.
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poem by David Harris
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The Enchanted Wood (Part 3)
As the door opened, he could see
the room was filled with people.
They looked at him as he entered
everyone smiled saying good evening.
He was ushered to the top of the table
and seated beside a beautiful young woman.
Her smile radiated the room
with light and warmth.
“Hello, you must be Lord Charles
my husband to be.
I am Princess Juliet.”
Her voice flowed through him
like a river of tranquillity.
At first, he was not sure
just what to say to her.
He stumbled over his words
and it made her laugh.
Suddenly he was at ease
and it seemed they were
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poem by David Harris
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A Christmas Miracle
A long time ago
in a land far away,
snowflakes fluttered down from the sky
like falling stars
on houses and garden walls.
A young boy was dreaming
of a wonderful Christmas day.
He dreamed of things
that he would like to happen.
The gifts around the Christmas tree.
Gifts for his parents,
his brother and his sisters.
It was just a dream though,
a dream on Christmas Eve.
His family were poor,
barely had enough money
to keep them all fed.
As Christmas loomed
there was no money
for any special treats.
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poem by David Harris
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First Impressions
They say that first impressions
should be lasting ones
by which we build
people’s characters from.
Do not believe it, that’s wrong.
I’ve known people
who were smiles at the start,
but once you got to know them
wouldn’t hesitate
to stab you in the back,
and others whom the first impressions
were so very wrong,
but as you got to know them,
you really found out how good they were.
The story I am about to relate
illustrates the second point so well.
It is the true story
of a very dear friend of mine.
It all started about three years ago
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poem by David Harris
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Strange But True 2 - Footsteps On The Stairs
I was a store man in an engineering factory,
during the early 1960’s when this story took place.
The company had rented and old tailor shop
as an extra storeroom just down the road.
It was time to do a stock take,
in the shop there on my own.
I had been in the building many times before on my own.
That day seemed no exception.
The building had three floors,
the ground floor, and the first floor
where I would be working and the second floor,
which had at one time been a flat.
I was seventeen at the time.
Therefore, I began my work
and began counting the stock,
when from the floor above I could hear
what sounded like a woman’s shoes
pacing around on the wooden floor.
My heart began to beat faster,
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poem by David Harris
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She Remembered
She looked at the rolling hills
and valley below,
at a place she once called her home
as she waited at a bus stop
to take her away anywhere
and she remembered how it started
all those long years ago.
How loved had captured her heart
and would never let her go.
She remembered with a tear
how he had got down on one knee
and proposed to her,
and how she had accepted
so freely to share his life.
Then she remembered that wonderful day
in spring when the scent of apple blossom
drifted through the air.
The day she walked up the isle
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poem by David Harris
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Ballad Of Rose Red
Rose Red was the name they gave her
because of her flaming hair.
She grew up in a time of turmoil
where children were taken from their beds.
When her only son was stolen and butchered,
something snapped within her head.
She turned her attention to the seas
and pirates life she led.
With cutlass and pistol,
her wrath swathed through the Spanish Main.
A price as big as her rivals
was placed upon her head,
but no one was fool enough to collect it
fearing the wrath of Rose Red.
Her mighty ship the Dragon Queen
sailed without hindrance and impunity.
Treasures of captured ships lined
the Dragon Queen’s hold,
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poem by David Harris
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The Photograph
She sat on the platform bench
waiting for a train to arrive.
Waiting to see her brother
who left to start a new life
twenty-five years ago.
She brought a photograph of herself
for him to have when he went back home.
Stillness engulfed the station
as she waited alone there.
The hiss of an old steam train
filled the quiet air
as along the track it came
like a dinosaur from the past
and stopped at the station.
A group of young soldiers
disembarked to stretch their legs
and grab some fresh air.
One young soldier approached her.
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poem by David Harris
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